An illusory downpour is hidden in the glare
of a bright autumn sun shining in a cloudless sky.
It is make-believe. All of it.
Even so, we blissfully bask in what we imagine,
whether rain or sun on a day we want to be today.
It can be erased.
Not erased but unimagined and
it disappears as quickly as it appears.
Then, stricken by the pain of our loss, we mourn.
As I age, my future
(or at least my concept of a future)
My spiritual adviser
(I don’t have one)
is pleased since his teaching
denies the existence of a future.
My financial advisor
(I don’t have one of these either)
is displeased since his teaching
argues for an expensive future.
(I have one)
is neither pleased nor displeased
and in her silence,
dreams of a yard without squirrels.
This is not a day to be out.
There are demons afloat
I do not wish to confront.
They are a frightful lot
even when they are not.
So, I will remain hidden since
hidden is a prudent place for me
I am an old man.
A wandering alien
In an unfamiliar world.
A world where
Only scattered artifacts
Serve as my reminders.
I am an old man.
A wisp of a shadow passing
Over fresh ground.
I am still me,
Years ago, a child was born
And soon transformed into
A warrior whose sword dulled
A teacher whose knowledge dried
A father whose children aged
A husband whose wife died
And now, the child reappears
And quietly waits his return
To what he was
Before he was born.
On this grey October morning,
Beethoven, rain, and a pen.
Nothing more is needed to bring contentment
To the cloistered world of the Old Hermit.
The music slaps against my window pane
And my lawn browns in the autumn rain
And today is not my birthday.
Then Seers take these simultaneous events
And chant them into cause and effect
And each predicts a unique Apocalypse
And leads us, the Innocents, into his special Hell.
The Old Man wakes to find
Death on two feet wearing fluffy slippers
With bunny faces and glass eyes.
“I know why you are here
But why the fuzzy footwear? ”
“There are reasons.
Some funny, some not,
But truth be told
My feet are cold.”
We live in curious times
Which seem different than the times before.
What I am saying is
We really do not know
Even though some claim to know.
So, can they explain why
The killing of untold numbers of people
Is the only suitable solution?
But first, can they explain the problem
Or even recognize the problem requiring this solution?
Perhaps the times are not so curious after all.
Every once in a while,
I work to reinvent myself.
I am not displeased with me
but I do get bored.
So, I work to reinvent myself.
The clerk at the cash register
likes my new hat.